


A kerfuffle in the valley

by Blissymbolics



Series: I know a guy [4]
Category: Barry (TV 2018), IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Crack, Intimidation, M/M, Mobster Eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26932156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blissymbolics/pseuds/Blissymbolics
Summary: “Richie Tozier.” The man’s voice is deep. His tattoos seem to stretch around the bulk of his muscles.“Yeah?”“Could you follow us?” he asks with a smile, displaying several gold teeth.“Uh, sure.” He hands his cup over to Hank, who looks just as confused as he is.Or, Eddie’s in with the mob, and Richie’s along for the ride.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, NoHo Hank/Richie Tozier
Series: I know a guy [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930762
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85





	A kerfuffle in the valley

Richie’s not sure what type of party he was expecting, but he envisioned something a little more… tasteful. Rushan’s house is a cookie cutter McMansion with three garages and a brick facade. There are probably thirty people in attendance, but the crowd looks sparse when spread across the ostentatiously large living room.

The food options are meager, but there’s plenty of liquor to go around. So Richie grabs a red cup and leans against the wall, trying to make himself scarce while Hank plays the floor. Every now and then he’ll turn back to Richie to give him a smile and wave, which Richie awkwardly returns.

The music is some Russian disco track with a heavy beat, and a few people are awkwardly two-stepping. Richie slowly eats the pirozkhi he grabbed off the buffet table. It’s pretty good, but he wishes there was something a bit more substantial. Apparently it was supposed to be a potluck, but most of the guests either brought booze or store-bought snacks. All in all, it might just be the lamest party Richie’s ever been to.

“Hey man, you having fun?” Hank asks, approaching him with a wide smile.

“Oh yeah, lots,” Richie replies, trying to reign in his natural sarcasm.

“Sorry to be jumping around so much. Gotta play the room. You know how it is.”

“Yep.” Richie nods, taking a sip of his wine cooler.

“So…” Hank intones, leaning beside Richie against the wall, “this new beau of yours, how’d you meet?”

Damn, Richie was really hoping Hank wouldn’t ask about Eddie. If he lets the wrong detail slip he could blow Eddie’s cover. He’s still adjusting to the fact that his boyfriend is apparently a mob fugitive, something he really should’ve disclosed before roping Richie into his witness protection scheme.

“Uh… we were childhood friends,” Richie replies.

“Oh, that’s so cute. Childhood sweethearts?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Despite his smile, Hank doesn’t look too happy with that answer.

“And how long have you been going steady?”

“About six months.”

“Oh, right after your little kerfuffle in Maine.”

Richie nods. “Yeah, we were both in town for a reunion. We hadn’t seen each other since graduation.”

“That’s lovely,” Hank replies, gripping his cup a bit tight.

Richie’s intuitive enough to read jealousy when he sees it, but he’s not sure what to do about it. Over their years of casual texting Hank never gave any indication that he wanted to resume dating. Maybe he only wants Richie now that he can’t have him.

“So what does he do?” Hank asks.

Richie swallows. “He’s a risk analyst. He works for an insurance company.”

Or at least that’s what Eddie told him. He said he got a transfer to the LA branch, but apparently he was never working for the New York branch to begin with. How deep does this go? How many lies is Eddie sitting on?

“Ugh, snooze,” Hank says, followed by a fake snore. “We have guy like that. Timur. Major buzzkill. Always complaining about paperwork and spreadsheets and hygienic body disposal. He never–“

Hank is suddenly interrupted by three men turning the corner and surrounding them against the wall. The one in the middle has tattoos covering both arms and his chest, which is puffed out, displaying thick chest hair around the hem of his wifebeater.

“Richie Tozier.” The man’s voice is deep. His tattoos seem to stretch around the bulk of his muscles.

“Yeah?”

“Could you follow us?” he asks with a smile, displaying several gold teeth.

“Uh, sure.” He hands his cup over to Hank, who looks just as confused as he is.

“What’s this?” Hank asks with a small laugh. “He’s just my date.”

“Come with us,” the man says more forcefully, gripping Richie’s jacket.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Richie says, raising his hands in surrender.

The men lead him to the three-part garage, which only houses one car: the Cadillac Escalade they arrived in. There’s a single metal folding chair sitting in the center of the concrete floor, which Richie is ushered to without ceremony.

They don’t tie him up, but they make it clear that any attempt to escape will be met with a dislocated jaw.

The man with the tattoos stands in front of him with a manila folder in his hand. He stares down at Richie while Hank awkwardly fidgets off to the side, still holding both their cups.

“When Hank said he was bringing date, I took the liberty of background check.”

He opens the manila folder and pulls out a photograph.

“You live with this man?”

Richie is sweating bullets. The man in the photo is clearly Eddie: hair slicked back with designer sunglasses, dressed in a pinstripe suit with… a pinky ring?

“Yes,” Richie replies nervously. There’s no use in lying.

“And what does he do?”

Richie knows it’s a trick question. But he can play dumb, right?

“He’s a risk analyst for an insurance company,” Richie states matter-of-factly, putting on his best impression of an innocent citizen.

The man smirks, clearly unconvinced.

“We have no interest in you, comedy man. But give your roommate message. Tell him we have eye on his wife. He has twenty-four hours to get in touch, or we take her somewhere not so nice.”

Richie gulps; his legs are starting to shake.

“I’ll give him the message,” he says.

The man nods, then snaps, and the other two men take Richie by the arms and escort him to the passenger side of the parked car.

“Hank, drive him home,” the man commands, and Hank quickly nods without complaint, placing their cups down on the bench with all the torture instruments.

Two minutes later they’re out on the road, driving through the rows of identical suburban houses. Richie’s still riding a wave of blissful adrenaline, and Hank just seems perplexed.

“So…” Hank starts, “you have a type.”

“Hm?”

“You like bad boys,” Hank says with a smile. “Ones who are up to no good.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Richie replies while rolling down his window.

“I mean, dating two mobsters is one thing, but shacking up with a married man? Oh Richie, you floozy.”

Richie can’t help but laugh at that. Then he leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes, letting the cool air dry the sweat on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Have fun Jenni!


End file.
